Shiver
by Nairobi
Summary: When Jamie and his friends accidentally guide something darker than even the boogeyman into our world, Jack steps in but quickly finds himself in over his head.
1. i - board

_From the kink!meme, horror and demons and paranormal activity a la RotG! Only I'm too shy to post it there, so here ya go. I don't own anything, I'm just playing with these adorable characters.  
_

_..._

* * *

On the day Jamie Bennet turned 11 years old, he was given an ouija board.

This didn't surprise anyone. From the time he could read Jamie had been utterly fascinated with the fantastic side of life; spirits and sprites, Bigfoot and Nessie. He had always believed with a fervent, hopeless passion, in all those fantasies of childhood. Even now he had reached the age when most kids stopped believing, Jamie continued to stay up trying to see Santa or tell stories about the snowball fights he'd had with Jack Frost. This was no secret among his friends and family, so it was no surprise when his Uncle Bernard presented Jamie with a large-ish blue package containing the ouija board at his birthday party.

What did come as a surprise was Jamie's totally apathetic reaction.

"I don't need a talking board to talk to the Easter Bunny or Jack Frost," he pointed out when his friends inquired, over cake and ice cream, as to Jamie's lack of interest. "You guys know that. We can already see them and talk to them as long as we believe."

"Yeah, guess you're right..." Pippa agreed, voice trailing off faintly in disappointment.

"Those things are creepy, anyway," Cupcake contributed. Monty nodded vigorously beside her.

"Well _I_ want to try it," Claude interjected, nudging Caleb with a sharp elbow.

"Yeah, maybe there are spirits around that we don't believe in and want to talk to us," Caleb agreed, delivering a punch to Claude's shoulder.

Pippa perked up as the twins started another one of their play-fights. "Great idea! None of us could see Jack Frost until we believed in him. Maybe this would be a good way to meet some new spirits to play with!" She turned beseechingly to Cupcake, the only other girl at the party. "It'll be fun if we meet somebody like Jack Frost, right?"

"I dunno," Cupcake said slowly, casting a gimlet eye over the board game.

"I think it's a bad idea," Monty ventured around a mouth full of cake.

"Oh, c'mon, Jamie, please?" Pippa insisted, leaning toward Jamie earnestly. It was his board, after all. "I've always wanted to try something like this," she added, meeting his eyes conspiratorially.

"Well," said Jamie slowly, meeting all of his friends' eyes haltingly around the table, "if you guys want to..."

Caleb, Claude, and Pippa cheered. Cupcake rolled her eyes but appeared mildly interested all the same. Monty suddenly lost his appetite for cake.

... ... ...

They decided to do it at midnight, because Pippa said so. They also decided to do it in the bathroom because it was the only room with a large enough mirror for all of them to see in - Caleb and Claude insisted on it. Jamie, getting in to the spirit of the game, came up with the candles. They were the battery-powered kind, pink, encased in flower-printed glass, and smelled like apple bourbon, but he assured his friends they would do just as well.

Cupcake suggested they wait until a full moon but was quickly shot down by Caleb, who wanted to play with the board immediately; they argued thus until Pippa, having located a calendar, announced that night was a new moon, which settled the argument immediately. What could possibly be better than playing with a ouija board on the night of a new moon?

Monty brought a flashlight.

To the kids' utter delight, no parents had any objection to an unexpected slumber party over spring break. Jamie's mom had somewhat suspected as much would come to pass when Jamie unwrapped the board, and she promptly cornered Uncle Bernard into helping her chaperone for the night. It was, after all, his gift that had caused it. The adults settled into the living room for the night with mugs of tea to chat while the children, dressed in their nighties, sat up giggling and turning bright eyes to the clock.

At a quarter to midnight, Pippa whispered, "it's time," and they all filed out of Jamie's room, passing Sophie's room on the way to the master bathroom.

The door clicked shut silently behind them.


	2. ii - mirror

_Just to clarify, during this part, Jamie and co. are all 10 - 11 years old and Sophie is 5; events in this fic begin taking place three years after the events of the movie. When this (admittedly long) prologue ends and the first part begins, the age range will have changed to 11 - 12 years. I suppose it doesn't make much of a difference, but there you are if you were wondering.  
_

_Also, the formatting for this chapter was a nightmare trying to correct. Apologies in advance if it seems wonky to ya._

_..._

* * *

In point of fact, the Bennet household was in possession of three bathrooms: a cramped half-size with a tall mirror, located in the master bedroom at the east end of the house, top floor; a small, but fully furnished, bathroom located between bedrooms, also on the top floor; and a deluxe, full-sized bathroom located in the cluttered, rarely-used basement. The full size lacked running water for reasons Jamie's mom knew of but had yet to see about fixing, so nobody in the family thought about it, with exception of the lone parent's mental to-do list. It could be found in the back of Jamie's mom's mind as "the basement bathroom," along with such things as "get the oil changed" and "buy green apples for Sophie's lunch."

In all honesty Jamie had not considered the basement bathroom (and its much bigger surface area with a much larger mirror) because he had never used it; so it was that Jamie and his friends packed themselves into the smaller master bathroom upstairs.

"Uh, how are we going to do this, exactly?" Cupcake asked once everybody was shut in. Her dry-voiced question was a valid one: while Jamie had always known this bathroom to be comfortably large enough for one or two small kids to brush their teeth in, it turned out to be much smaller than initially expected with six tweens and a board game stuffed inside.

Monty, who had stationed himself by the door, flipped the light switch on. "We need to see to set it up, at least," he defended himself when Pippa and Caleb (who were very much filled with excitement to be playing occult games like this) protested volubly.

"Yeah, those candles aren't enough to see the board by," Cupcake agreed.

"Yeah, that's true..." Pippa sighed, disappointed. It wouldn't be as fun with the light on.

"Hey Monty, don't you have a flashlight?" Claude asked.

"Uh... yeah?" Monty had a sinking suspicion of where this was going as Claude turned triumphantly to Jamie, who also caught on immediately.

"I have another one in my room, just a sec!"

As Jamie disappeared around the door and down the hallway, Cupcake turned to the counter. It was liberally cluttered with various bathing-room items; the sink took up the majority of counter space front and center. Either side of the sink were open baskets in pink and green respectively, both filled with what were obviously Jamie's and Sophie's toiletries. On Sophie's side, every bottle, tooth brush, and knick-knack were laying across the counter.

"Where are we going to put the board?" Cupcake asked, scrutinizing the rest of the room while the other kids examined the counter tops as well. Beside the sink was a small, shallow closet, most likely stuffed with towels and toilet paper and other bathroom necessities; then the toilet, which was very nearly pressed against a knee-high bathtub-shower combo. Across from the counter was a low cupboard with doors that squeaked loudly when opened. Between cupboard and shower was a towel rack.

All-in-all a normal-looking bathroom. Not the place Cupcake would have chosen to communicate with the dead, but Pippa was rapidly showing herself to be the expert on these things, and Pippa had decided on a mirror.

"We can't balance it over the sink," Claude sighed. "That'd be the only place where we could all reach it."

"W- why would we all need to reach it?" Monty asked.

"We got to all put our hands on the... the triangle thingy. You know, Monty." Claude explained, trying to sound as if he knew what he were talking about.

"It's a planchette, Claude. You're right, Cupcake, we'll have to put it on the floor," Pippa interjected, scrutinizing the mirror and adjusting her hat.

"If we're all sitting on the floor then what's the point of being near a mirror? I thought we'd have to see its reflection or something," Monty asked. "We might as well do it in Jamie's room or something," he added, rather hopefully. "It would be more comfortable?"

"Yeah, I vote we go somewhere else," Caleb agreed.

"No way! You guys, we can see the mirror from the floor. We don't need to see the board in the mirror, just the mirror." Pippa insisted, hands akimbo.

"Why do we need the mirror again?" Cupcake asked.

"Because spirits like mirrors," Pippa waffled, "you know, they might appear to us as just a reflection, or... uh, maybe they come through mirrors as a way to speak to us through the board. Anyway, we definitely need a mirror to make contact with spirits we can't see." she finished.

"Got it, you guys!" Jamie's return brought an energetic end to the budding argument. He bumped the door closed with a hip as his arms were full of flashlights in varying sizes. "After I found mine I remembered there were more in the hall closet and Sophie's room. Think this is enough, Pippa?"

"Yes!" Pippa cheered as Jamie passed out the flashlights. "This is perfect, Jamie."

"We're sitting on the floor," Monty informed Jamie glumly as the twins and Cupcake set about moving bathroom rugs and situating the board on the floor.

"But the candles should go in front of the mirror," Pippa added. Obligingly, Jamie cleared the counter space (which involved dumping everything into the sink) and clicked on the four candles. He placed two on either side of the sink, grabbed his flashlight, and put his hand on the light switch.

The kids situated themselves on the floor, cross-legged with knees touching per Pippa's request. They were cramped enough they all would have been touching in some way, anyway, though; even from the ground, the bathroom was a small one.

Monty, who had no interest whatsoever in seeing whatever it was the others wanted to see in the mirror, sat with his back to the counter cupboards. To his left, with her back to the toilet, sat Cupcake. Being of the opinion that though this sounded like fun it would always be irredeemably stupid, Cupcake opted to be The Recorder (Pippa had said this as though it were a proper title). Cupcake was given to understand she need only write down every letter the planchette highlighted on the board; she held a small flip-notebook in one hand and a pen poised over it in the other.

To cupcake's left, back to the bathtub, sat Claude, and beside him, Pippa, who was given command of the spot with the best view of the mirror by mutual unspoken agreement. Caleb claimed a seat close to the door for reasons he did not voice, leaving a spot open between Caleb and Pippa for Jamie.

"Ready?" Jamie asked, grinning wide and pointing the flashlight up below his chin.

Three grins, an upraised eyebrow, and a worried frown answered him.

"Do it," Claude whispered theatrically, also pointing his flashlight below his chin.

Jamie clicked the light off.

Once their eyes adjusted, the children found the ambiance was not as chilling as they would have liked. The most light came from the hallway through the crack in the door, effectively destroying whatever dark atmosphere they might have created. The battery-powered candles did not offer much light, but what they did give off was steadily and decidedly pink, throwing vague flower shapes on the wall and ceiling opposite the mirror. The flashlights, which the kids propped up in their laps facing the board, effectively took away the deepest shadows on the floor. The only truly dark parts of the bathroom were the shower (curtain drawn) and the ceiling above it and the toilet.

Pippa sat up straighter as Jamie joined his friends in the haphazard circle and attempted to put the best face on things.

"We will now contact the spirits," she intoned in what she fondly imagined to be a grave and chilling voice. "Uh, does anybody mind if I ask the questions?"

"I want to ask questions, too," Claude complained.

"Why don't we all ask questions?" Cupcake asked. She had relaxed considerably; pink was her favorite color. She was already planning to ask her parents for fake candles like Jamie's.

"Uh, I don't think any spirits would mind if we all asked questions," Jamie said. Somewhat deflated, Pippa gave in.

"Alright. Everybody, place your fingers on the planchette."

"Huh?" said Jamie.

"The triangle thing," Monty supplied.

"Oh."

Everybody with exception to Monty and Cupcake reached forward and placed the tips of their fingers on the planchette, which Pippa had previously put in the center of the board. Then they all turned to stare at Monty and Cupcake.

"Recording, remember?" Cupcake said dryly, holding up her pen. "I can't write and reach at the same time." The other children agreed this was a good enough excuse to not touch the planchette, and then turned en force on the bespectacled blonde.

"I- I- I- don't want to," Monty whispered.

"Oh, c'mon, Monty," Claude groaned. "It's not going to bite you."

"It's okay, really," Jamie assured him. His smile was genuine. "I mean, Santa or the Tooth Fairy wouldn't do anything scary or weird, right? What if we couldn't see them because we didn't believe in them? Think of all the friends we might not've met because we don't know to believe in them! They can tell us their names and what they look like, and then we'll have more friends like Jack Frost. Wouldn't that be so cool?"

"I doubt any of 'em would be hanging out in Jamie's bathroom," Cupcake deadpanned. Her vote turned out to be the most placating. "I don't think anything interesting is going to happen. It's just a board game at heart, isn't it?"

Monty finally consented to placing his fingers on the planchette with the others. Everybody gazed down at the board solemnly.

The board was rather plain in appearance, something the kids were grateful for; though the light wasn't spooky, it wasn't the best to see by, either. The board was made to look like wood, light brown with tree grain markings painted on. At the top, "Spirit Board" was spelled out in almost illegibly curly letters. The center of the board was dominated by the alphabet (all legible, fortunately) listed in two lines. Below the letters were the numbers zero through nine, the words "yes" and "no" on either side, and finally, at the bottom was a single word: "Goodbye."

"We will now contact the spirits," Pippa began again, a little forcefully. "Are there any spirits here that would like to be believed in?"

She fell silent with a grave expression, and all the others followed suit. They gazed at the board intently, waiting with bated breath.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

To their enormous credit, the children were able to hold still and remain quiet for almost two full minutes.

It was Cupcake who broke the silence.

"This is stupid."

"Cupcake!" Pippa wailed, "you have to give them a chance!"

"How long of a chance are we going to give them, exactly?" Claude asked, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe we should ask more questions?" Jamie suggested.

Caleb cleared his throat. "Attention all spirits in the area who have yet to be believed in, attention all spirits in the area who have yet to be believed in, do you read me, over?"

Claude, Cupcake, and Jamie giggled.

"Caleb! We have to be serious about this or they won't talk to us!" Pippa scowled, twitching the planchette in time to her last few words.

"What's to be serious about?" Cupcake grumbled, placing one hand on her neck as she stretched it.

"Maybe we're not asking the right questions," Caleb contributed, smirking faintly.

"Whatever we ask, we have to give them time to answer," Pippa shot back vociferously.

"Do you think we should be asking something specific, though?" Jamie mused. "I mean, what if it can't speak English or something? Maybe we should talk to them in shorter sentences."

"Maybe we should just go to bed," Monty muttered.

"What was that, Monty?" Pippa growled. Everybody stopped talking and turned to look at him.

"I- uh, nothing. Nothing." Monty gulped and tried to look interested. "Only, Pippa, m- maybe you shouldn't move the... uh, the planchette around so much."

"I'm not-" Pippa began wrathfully, but the words died quite suddenly in her throat. Her mouth remained open as she snapped wide eyes back to the board.

The planchette moved.

They all felt it, as if something far stronger than the tips of kids' fingers were doing it. Monty yelped and snatched his hand back. There was an audible thunk as his shoulders hit the cabinet behind him.

The planchette twitched three times, then stopped. Everybody stared, eyes wide, lips forming various sized "O" shapes. The silence was suddenly total and absolute. They even held their breath. The bathroom began to feel less pink and light-hearted. More than one pair of fingers trembled, but none apart from Monty took their hands away from the board.

"Wha-" Claude's voice was something between a gasp and a strangled whisper, "what did it say, Cupcake?"

Cupcake twitched, then seemed to come back to herself. "I didn't catch it," she admitted, rallying; she was relieved to find her voice sounded steady. "I wasn't looking at the board."

Pippa pressed her lips together, trying to form words. It was Jamie who spoke next, however. If the unexpected movement centered around the board subdued him, he did not show it. He and Cupcake appeared to be the only two kids left unshaken.

"What is your name?"

Everybody held their breaths again, fingers light on the triangle. When a few agonizing seconds passed, Jamie looked up to the mirror.

"Can you show us your reflection?"

Everybody except Monty immediately craned their necks back to get a good peek at the mirror. Nothing.

And then the planchette twitched beneath their fingers again. As it began gliding smoothly, but quickly, across the board, Cupcake snapped into action and began scribbling letters as quickly as possible. It went fast enough that she couldn't look at what she was writing.

It stopped. Again, a pregnant silence. Again, Jamie and Cupcake appeared to be the only participants willingly engaged. All the other young faces had begun showing signs of varying degrees of stress.

Jamie whispered, "Cupcake?" and the girl in question looked down at what she had written. Thankfully, her coordination was good enough that her scribbles were readable.

_CHILDREN  
_

"...Um," said Jamie at last, "yeah, we're kids, I guess. Big kids, though. Do you need us to believe in you before we can see you?"

This time the pause was not so long. Claude breathed out a wondering sigh as their fingers were dragged lightly across the board again. Once more, Cupcake was hard-pressed to keep up.

_WANTTOPLAYAGAME  
_

"Uh, sure," Jaimie answered, unsure as to whether this was a question directed at them or not.

"What kind of game?" Pippa contributed, having finally pulled herself together. Now that the initial shock was over with she was getting to be just as interested as Jamie was. In all honesty, she simply hadn't expected to get anything out of this little exercise. Across from her, Monty moaned softly, knuckles pressed to his teeth.

The planchette trailed over the board. Cupcake leaned forward to stare intently, scribbling furiously.

_HIDEANDSEEK  
_

"Oh, well, that's easy enough," Claude answered charitably. "Can you make yourself visible so we can find you?"

"Yes, please?" Pippa agreed.

"We can't find you if you aren't visible," Jamie added.

"And it would be easier to talk face to face, don't you think?" Caleb contributed.

The pause was a long one. Over a minute passed before Cupcake was scribbling the answer.

_YOUHIDEISEEK_

"Uh," said Pippa.

"Do we have to do this?" Claude groaned, sitting back - but not far enough to take his fingers from the triangle. "I thought we were going to talk to new spirits like Jack Frost and the Sandman." He was startled when the triangle immediately began to move again.

_HIDEFROMME_

"Okay..." said Jamie slowly, his confidence suddenly shaken. He felt as if the tip of a cold claw was running slowly up his back, from the base of his spine to the back of his neck. He shivered.

"Spirit, we will not be leaving this room," Pippa called out firmly. She, too, had felt that cold feeling of something like dread creeping up her back.

Caleb and Claude immediately backed her up. "We can't leave this room and talk to you at the same time. We wouldn't know if you'd found us or not."

"Yeah, that's no fun..."

All six kids watched the board expectantly for close to five minutes before they got their next message, which was not a message, precisely. The pointer jerked down to the number nine, paused for a heartbeat, and then jerked to the number eight. Another pause. Seven. Six. Five.

The room seemed to fill with something heavy and dark, like dread or depression. Four. Three. An immediate hubbub broke out.

"What is it doing?"

"Stop it! You guys!"

Two.

Jamie tore his hands from the planchette, yelling, "we're not going to play your stupid game!"

One.

Zero.

"I said-" Jamie was cut off by a sudden _snap!_ that cracked across the bathroom like a gunshot. At least four kids squeaked or wailed, and they all jumped. All four of Jamie's mom's battery-powered candles, and every flashlight except Monty's, had gone out at once, but with the noise of a thousand light bulbs cracking into nothingness.

Monty gripped his flashlight tightly against his chest, breathing harshly; the lone light illuminated each puff of breath as if he were standing outside on an icy winter's night. More than one child came to the conclusion that their trembling was from more than just shot nerves. The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped considerably with the countdown.

The planchette moved again in the much more thorough semi-darkness. Claude yelped.

"I can't see!" Cupcake cried. Caleb snatched the flashlight from Monty to shine it on the board. Cupcake leaned so far forward to see that she blocked the view from everybody but Monty, who had covered his face with both hands and was whimpering softly.

_READYORNOT  
_

Their fingers stilled for a brief pause and Cupcake slowly leaned away, eyebrows drawn together. And then:

_HEREICOME_

There followed a sudden commotion at the door and the sound of something inhuman. All of the kids screamed and jerked away from the door, Caleb tripping over the board and knocking the others over in the darkness like dominoes. Jamie recovered quickly, though, and, trembling, darted to the door and yanked it open.

"It's okay," he gasped as Abby, the family greyhound, bounced in. "It's just Abby. She hates being locked out of whatever room I'm in."

The open door allowed light and blessed heat to flood in to the suddenly suffocatingly small room. There was a brief struggle as every child attempted to escape into the hallway at the same time. Abby squeezed out with them, adding merrily to the melee by jumping on Jamie, making little whining sounds, and whipping everybody within reach with her tail.

"Jamie? Kids, is that you?" Jamie's mom mounted the steps and found all the children under her care in a tangled heap on the floor of the hallway. "What are you kids up to?"

"N- n- nothing, missus Bennet," Pippa managed, picking herself up gingerly.

Jamie's mom was not fooled. "Been playing with that talking board, haven't you?"

Caught, the children all hung their heads a little sheepishly.

"Did you meet any ghosts?"

"Well..." Caleb began.

"Not... sort of?" Cupcake offered, as much at a loss as the others.

"Mom, our house is haunted," Jamie informed her, point blank. "There's a creepy ghost in the bathroom."

His mom seemed to think that was funny. Chuckling placidly, she suggested the ghost go outside to play with Jack Frost so her kiddos could go to bed. They caught the hint and shuffled off to Jamie's room (and Sophie's, for the girls) obediently, with Abby bouncing in their wake.

Jamie's mom entered the hallway properly, and then the bathroom. Flipping on the light confirmed her suspicions: the ouija board lay haphazardly on the floor with no sign of the planchette, something she would not have thought to look for anyway. She tutted at all of the flashlights and candles - clearly, Jamie had raided every closet in the house - and began gathering everything up to put away.

She did not notice a strange temperature in the room, or not particularly; nor did she try any of the candles or flashlights to find if they were working or not. She did notice smudges on the mirror, however, and gave an exasperated sigh. One thing she had always gotten on Jamie and Sophie about was writing on and leaving fingerprints all over the bathroom mirror. She didn't bother to read the message - doubtlessly something meant to be spooky and seance-ish - but flipped on the sink, nabbed a hand towel, and washed it off.


	3. iii - light

_Final chapter of the "prologue" if you could call it that. lol Thank you all for the reviews, favs, and follows! I hope this little venture in horror meets your expectations. (: *Ihopeyourexpectationsarekindoflow*_

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* * *

The next morning brought with it sunlight and warmth, a cloudless spring day, and the joy of having no school to go to just yet. Waking up to birdsong and the smell of bacon, the kids felt rather foolish about their ouija board experience the night before, rather the way one feels after panicking over a nightmare in the dead of night only to find it was, after all, nothing but a silly dream.

They giggled about it at a late breakfast table, talking through mouthfuls of eggs and toast and warm, crunchy bacon slices. Uncle Bernie had left earlier in the morning, but Jamie's dad - who worked a night shift as a police officer - was present, taking his dinner as much as the kids took their breakfast. He sat young Sophie on one knee and let her steal from his plate while he questioned the children on their supposed nightly intruder.

"And then it started counting down all the way from nine, huh?"

"Yeah! It was super creepy, Mr. Bennet. Then the whole room got cold-"

"It was like freezing cold-"

"I could see my breath, it was that cold-"

"And then suddenly, out of nowhere-"

"Abby tried to get in the door," Jamie finished, to a round of laughter which spewed crumbs across the table in almost every direction.

"Just ol' Abby, huh?" Mister Bennet smiled faintly at his son while the dog in question had an absolute field day cleaning up spewed crumbs. "So no haunted bathrooms after all?"

"Nope," Cupcake assured him.

"But even if there was a ghost, you could just shoot it, right?" Monty asked.

"Oh, I don't know. I think I'd have to arrest it for trespassing first."

"Alright kids, if you're finished why don't you go play outside? Enjoy this weather while it lasts." Jamie's mom broke in.

When the dining room was empty and the children had all got their things and set out either to play or for home, the Bennets had a short conversation in low voices.

"An ouija board? Are you out of your mind?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, for pity's sake. What's so wrong about encouraging imagination-?"

"Jamie is 11 years old. Eleven! He is too old to believe in fairy tales like this. This, this needs to stop."

"For pity's sake," Jamie's mom repeated, rapidly losing her patience (this was getting to be a tired argument of late), "there is nothing wrong with encouraging imagination. He'll grow out of it when he's good and ready and not a day before."

"He should have grown out of it years ago, Hon." Jamie's dad's countenance softened; he never could stand up to the lady of the house when she got upset. He persisted in a gentler tone. "How many 11-year-old boys still believe in Santa? What if this pursues him into junior high? How do you think he'll feel when he finds out he's the only teenager who still, shit, goes hunting for Easter eggs, has entire conversations with Jack Frost, camps out in his little sister's room to try and see the tooth fairy? What will happen when his peers find out? Kids are cruel. We need to do what's best for Jamie and stop encouraging these... flights of fancy. Understand what I'm saying?"

Missus Bennet cupped her elbows and turned her eyes to the floor, leaning against the oven.

"I know- yes, I know. It's just..." She sighed and gave her life partner a wan smile, "it's just so hard to see my baby all grown up..."

Mister Bennet stood and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. "We've still got one rugrat to fool on a yearly basis, you know."

She snorted a little and gave in, relaxing into his embrace. "And possibly another after she's too old for it, too, huh?"

"Uh..."

The conversation was cut short as Sophie came thundering inside with Abby, screaming excitedly, "snowing! Snow! Mommy, Daddy, look!"

They did look, incredulously. It had been a mild winter followed by a warm spring; just this morning the weatherman had predicted a cloudless day with highs in the mid seventies. But sure enough, when Jamie's parents poked their heads out the front door, it was as if winter had settled in for one more day. The wind nipped their noses; clouds appeared to be covering the expanse of Burgess only; snow flakes had begun to pepper the air.

"Would you look at that," said Jamie's dad.

"Jack Frost," Sophie turned her bright, dimpled smile to the sky. "He's back, Daddy." Then she glanced back over her shoulder, into the house, where Abby was sitting at the door. "Come and play!"

The adults were forced to dodge Abby as the greyhound came barreling into the yard, but Jamie's mom immediately jumped into action and shot after Sophie, calling for her to put on a coat and a hat.

The neighborhood filled with the delighted calls of children, Jamie and Sophie among them. Watching the children play, Jamie's dad thought that perhaps his son could be allowed one more day as a child. School didn't start up again until Monday, after all. He had time.


End file.
